


Déjà Vu

by youreyeslookliketheocean



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post Reveal, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, after marinette hands off the miracle box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreyeslookliketheocean/pseuds/youreyeslookliketheocean
Summary: After Marinette releases the miracle box, she meets Adrien outside the hospital.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108





	Déjà Vu

**Author's Note:**

> This went through approximately five minutes of rushed editing and that's it so... don't judge.

Marinette stepped out from under the hospital’s front awning and winced. When had it started raining?

The wet drops fell annoyingly against her hair, sliding down her shoulders and arms, soaking her. If her parents hadn’t already left her to go get their car, she would have asked them if they had an umbrella. But as it was, they weren’t here right now and Marinette had no idea how long it would take them to pull the car up.

She was about to turn back around and head inside when a scuffle next to her drew her attention.

It was the boy, again. The blond one. He was standing about six feet away from her on the sidewalk with one hand in his pocket and his eyes glued to the ground. He shuffled his feet against the wet cement awkwardly.

Marinette’s heart squeezed.

She wanted to remember, she really did, but no matter how strange of a feeling she got when she looked at him, there were no memories to accompany it.

She didn’t know what had happened. One second she’d been in the bakery helping her Maman and Papa make bread dough, and the next she’d been waking up on a rooftop in the middle of Paris, not knowing what had happened in the past three years.

The boy had been there when she woke up. Except, as strange as it sounded, she could have sworn he’d been wearing a black cat costume. Originally, she thought that maybe it had been Halloween that day. But when she asked the nurses at the hospital later, they confirmed that it was mid-February—long past Halloween.

Either way, he wasn’t wearing the costume anymore. Instead, he had on a black tee shirt, white jacket, and jeans.

Marinette bit her lip and looked out towards the parking lot. She remembered the boy’s face when she’d scrambled away from him—nearly falling off the roof in her haste to get away. He’d looked heartbroken. And then, when her parents had come to the hospital, he’d come to visit. He’d said his name was Adrien, and asked if she remembered anything, anything at all, about the last three years.

When she shook her head no, he’d nearly burst into tears. Marinette’s mother had to take him out of the room to calm him down.

Marinette inhaled and exhaled slowly, the way the nurses had told her to when she was feeling panicked.

Why had she forgotten so much? This boy had obviously meant something to her before, so why had she forgotten about him? She didn’t _want_ to have forgotten anything. She wanted so badly to have been able to tell the boy that she remembered him, or at least remembered _something_. Anything would have been better than what her mind gave her: an empty slate.

“I’m sorry.”

Marinette looked up and was surprised to find that the boy, Adrien, had moved closer to her. He still wouldn’t look at her, his green eyes instead following the trickle of water on the street below, but his arm lightly brushed against hers as they stood side-by-side.

“S-sorry?” Marinette coughed to clear her throat.

Adrien shifted on his feet. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you upset earlier. I knew this was coming sooner or later, but I just… it doesn’t matter. The point is, I’m sorry for pressuring you to remember.”

“You didn’t, really,” Marinette replied. “Besides, I want to remember. I—” She sniffled, feeling the onset of tears for about the fiftieth time that day. The nurses said it was normal for her to be a bit more emotional, but crying every five minutes didn’t seem “normal” to Marinette. Unless it was a habit she’d developed in the last three years, in which case…

“Oh, you’re getting all wet. Hold on.”

Marinette blinked as Adrien held up an unopened umbrella. He popped it open and turned to her, extending it.

“What? But… that’s yours.”

“We can share it.” He shrugged.

Hesitantly, Marinette reached out to wrap her fingers around the umbrella’s handle. As she made contact, her fingers brushed against Adrien’s. A spark of electricity made her whole body tingle at the feeling, and she couldn’t help but think that this had happened before. Maybe it was just déjà vu, but the rain pattering against the umbrella, Adrien’s fingers brushing against hers, and—

_Fwoomp!_

Marinette jumped, startled, as the umbrella closed over both of their heads.

“Ah, sorry! I think I bring my bad luck to umbrellas because this always seems to happen with me,” Adrien apologized, trying to push the umbrella back up.

He finally got it to open, and Marinette stared at him as he frowned at its hinges. Then, she burst out laughing.

Adrien stared at her in shock as she laughed so hard she had to put her hands on her knees and bend over.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” he asked.

She giggled, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “Yes! Yes! Sorry! I just—” She burst out into hysterical laughter again, and slowly, Adrien joined in.

Standing in the middle of a rainstorm, laughing like they’d just heard the world’s funniest joke—the two of them must have looked like they came from the psych division of the hospital. Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to care, though, as she finally straightened up and locked eyes with Adrien. He was still laughing, and the sound of it made Marinette’s heart skip a beat.

She knew that laugh. She had to have known it, because there was no way she’d feel like…like _this_ … if she’d never heard it before. If it didn’t mean something to her.

“We… we were friends before, right?” Marinette asked quietly.

Adrien instantly sobered, wiping the tears of laughter out of his eyes. “Yeah, of course. We were…” He turned to her then, and the way the light left his eyes so quickly made Marinette’s heart sink. “We were best friends,” he finally finished.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember,” Marinette whispered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is. Brains don’t normally go around forgetting three years of their life, but mine did. And I don’t even know why.”

Marinette stopped talking as a van pulled up to the curb with the logo for the Dupain-Cheng Bakery on the side of it. She could see her parents inside, and they gestured for her to get in.

“Do you have a ride back home?” Marinette asked, turning to Adrien.

He nodded, and glanced down the street to their right, where Marinette noticed a silver car had parked. It must have been his family.

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll see you sometime? Here’s your umbrella back.”

Adrien shook his head, pushing the umbrella back into her hands. “No. Keep it. You can give it back to me the next time I see you. Plus, I have too many at my house as it is.”

When Marinette pulled a skeptical face at him, he just smiled. “Trust me. I do.”

And she did. She had no reason to besides the fact that out of all the people she’d supposedly met in the past three years, he seemed the most familiar, but she trusted him. So she took the umbrella, gave him a thankful nod, and then turned back to her parent’s car.

“Wait.”

Marinette stopped, turning back to Adrien. He was in the rain now, his blond hair getting totally soaked.

He raised a fist to her.

“Fist bump?” he asked, his voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the pounding rain. “We used to do it… before.”

She took a step towards him, and raised her fist until it collided with his. In a way, the gesture felt so familiar and easy that it was like she’d done it a trillion times before. But it must not have meant the same thing to her as it did to Adrien, anymore, because his eyes immediately teared up.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to do that one more time,” he said.

“It’s okay. I…”

_I wish I could remember. I wish I could remember you. I wish—_

Marinette reached out to grab Adrien’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. Then she turned away and headed back to her parents car.

As she shut the car door behind her, she couldn’t help but glance out at Adrien one more time. He’d turned away and was heading back to his car, but his hands were over his face.

Marinette’s heart broke. But there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing except let the tears silently drip down her face to the umbrella in her lap.


End file.
